


A Trip to DCI Hunt's Office

by blueteak



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/pseuds/blueteak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackie Queen's feeling guilty about a story that's been published. The Guv sorts everything out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trip to DCI Hunt's Office

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt Gene/Jackie, spanking, comfort, at Porn Battle XIII

Jackie knew that she had given up the dubious honor of being what society considered “nice and proper” some time ago. She’d refused to back down in too many interviews, refused to pull punches on the paper regardless of how many sob stories she heard. It was her job to report the truth, not bury it, even when she believed the subjects of her stories when they told her that they hadn’t meant to do whatever it was they’d done. She tried to be fair to everyone in her reporting while getting the important stories out. Whatever problems people faced after her stories were published were not her problem, even if she did need a stiff drink sometimes after the print deadline passed. Even if she was just doing her duty.

Except that right now the story she’d been involved in creating and reporting was her problem, as the cold stares of the officers of CID indicated. They weren’t teasing her as was their wont, some of them telling her they had stories for her “right here” while gesturing at their crotches. They weren’t even trying to pinch her bum. Not even DS Carling was leering at her. Who’d have ever thought she’d miss something like that? Well, miss getting irritated by it, anyway. They didn’t want to touch her, tease her, acknowledge that she shared space with them in any way. It hurt. And what made it worse was that part of her thought she deserved it.

Sam was the only one who looked remotely sympathetic, though he was as furious as the rest of them, she’d wager. 

“Ms. Queen. If you’d like to talk, perhaps we should find a more suitable location. The Guv’s--” His voice was clipped, polite, but he was still protecting her. 

“It’s Gene I want to see, DI Tyler. Sam.”

“Why, Jackie?” He asked, using her first name, willing to listen, at least, though he still sounded betrayed. He respected her and he’d forgive her. He’d probably also give her what she needed, but she was afraid that he’d absolve her too soon. He was halfway there already, she could tell. Hunt wouldn’t. They had a history. If he absolved her at all, it’d be at a hefty price. Right now, she wanted to pay it.

“I need to explain, apologize,” she said, taking a deep breath before reciting the explanation she’d run through in her head fifty times on the way to the station. “I shouldn’t have told my editor that I was going to be part of the Reynolds sting. I know I was told not to, but I thought I had to even if it didn’t feel quite right. It’s my job. I didn’t think he’d print it to get an earlier headline. I thought waiting until it was over would be a bigger story. I should have listened to my gut.”

“And right now your gut is telling you to see Gene?” Sam asked, sounding both concerned and disbelieving. “Are you trying to be part of the story again? The story of your own murder-by-necktie?” 

“Sam, if he hasn’t killed you yet I think I’ll survive.”

“He and I have other ways of blowing off steam, Jackie.”

Jackie’d seen them blowing off steam, Sam with his arm twisted high behind his back, pressed into a brick wall with Gene behind him whispering threats or promises into his ear, not letting up. She was suddenly aware that her panties were getting soaked just thinking about it. She hoped she and Gene would have their own way of blowing off steam or getting back to normal, and that it would overlap with Gene and Sam’s. At least a little.

Sam froze at the sound of a cough coming from Gene’s office and looked around as though planning an escape route for Jackie. But there was no time. Gene’s office door opened and Sam moved in front of her to protect her. While part of her appreciated it, the other part wanted to shove him out of the way and face Gene on her own.

Gene looked at her for a long moment, expression giving nothing away, and then ordered everyone out. The officers looked between Jackie and Gene and shuffled out, some of them taking files to work on in the canteen, others looking like they were going to take advantage of this fight by kicking the ball around outside. 

Sam of course, stayed in front of Jackie, putting a hand on Gene’s chest to stop him when he when he got too close to them. “Gene, I know you need to have words with Jackie, but don’t say or do anything stupid--“

“Tyler, right now you and I are the ones needing to have words,” Gene said, grabbing Sam by the elbow and propelling him first into the office and then into the filing cabinet. 

Jackie followed them at a distance. Gene was being gentle, for Gene. They were talking in low voices, but Sam must have riled him all of the sudden because in the blink of an eye Gene had Sam turned around with his arm pressed behind his back. 

Jackie stood in the doorway, watching to see how this played out.

Gene met her eyes, body still pressed against Sam’s, pinning him. “Tyler’s explained about your situation with your editor, says you’re sorry and seems to think that I’d say or do something incredibly stupid to you for cocking up like you did. I told him that based on how guilty you looked at the scene, a bollocking from me was probably what you came here for.”

Sam, no doubt feeling awkward at being observed while being subdued by his Guv, renewed his struggle, resulting in Gene pulling his arm up tighter. Sam winced and gasped, his entire body arching back in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. 

Jackie found herself getting even more excited, imagining herself arching back into Gene, feeling the ache in her arm and knowing he wouldn’t let up until she submitted….

She was so lost in imagining herself in Sam’s place that she didn’t notice when Gene turned his attention back to her. “Looks like I was right. Your pupils are so wide I’d suspect you’d found your way into the confiscated drugs in this cabinet if I didn’t have Tyler pressed against it. You want what I’m giving to my DI.”

Sam struggled against Gene while she nodded, mouth going dry. “You can’t have it,” Gene told her, and let Sam go. “I’ve no doubt that your balls are as big as Tyler’s, but fact is you’re a bird and he only pretends to be one. And given that you were doing as your superior told you--” Sam snorted, rubbing his arm--“I can’t reasonably give you too much of a tongue lashing, much less the type of discipline I give my men.” 

Gene turned to Sam. “Convinced it’s safe to leave me with the journo now, Tyler?” 

Sam looked between them, then searched Jackie’s face. He probably suspected that something was going to happen, but seemed content to leave well enough alone now that he had been assured that nothing terrible would occur. “All right. And Jackie. His weak spot’s his right foot. I gave it a good stomp earlier.”

“Tyler. Out. Go bother Forensics or play with your blood pattern analysis book. Grownups are busy.”

Sam shook his head, but left grinning. 

Gene closed the door and turned to face her, saying absolutely nothing.

“I know you just told Sam you wouldn’t, but I can’t believe you’re not shouting at me, telling me that the article set you back months, that it’s my fault a murdering bastard’s still loose.”

“Sounds like you’ve learned that well enough already. And I won’t reinforce the lesson with my fists, Jackie, unless you’ve a surprise in the trouser department.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “I’m not doing penance any other way, Gene. I’d rather have your fists than your cock.”

“I’m not giving you either, you traitorous tart. And why do you want to make it up to me, anyway? I’m a man you think would hit a woman. Who’d shoot an unarmed man.”

“Who’d die to protect his men and who tries to keep this city clean, much as I disagree with his methods at times and will expose them if necessary. Who punishes people who cock things up.”

“People. Not women.”

Jackie looked anywhere but at him, not wanting to roll her eyes at him again, and caught sight of his “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” poster. Aha. Well, it was possible he’d go for John Wayne’s way of dealing with a woman. “Right. So. In a Western, how would a man punish a woman?”

Gene looked at her appraisingly, then nodded to himself. “He’d either put her over his knee or bend her over a fence for a leathering.”

She’d already known the answer, but hearing him say it made her shiver.

Gene sat down on the sofa, but crossed one leg on top of the other. It seemed that unless he had a long whip of some sort he could use while seated, she wasn’t going to be bent over the desk and thrashed. However, she didn’t think he’d have her over his knee when it was crossed over his leg like that, unless he wanted to make her even more uncomfortable. 

“What are you….?” She asked, confused and aching for closure in the form of his hand striking her, driving the guilt away. 

“Come here,” he said, and she obeyed. 

She stood at his side, waiting to be drawn over his lap. Oh, God. It would hurt so much. She’d seen him punch. She’d seen him kill. One of his hands could probably span an entire cheek. She bit her lip, then quickly let it go. She felt like too much of a schoolgirl already. 

“Jackie.” She held his gaze, noting that he looked entirely solemn for once. Not like he was about to have a laugh. Not like he was in a rage. Just….just steady, calm. He still hadn’t uncrossed his legs, but she sensed that he would soon, and she’d be over them.

“You need a hiding.” It was a statement, not a question, but she nodded.

“You came here to get one from me.”

“Yes. Or something like one, anyway.”

This time he nodded.

“You understand that it will hurt. Probably more than any spanking you’ve ever experienced, unless you’re the type who goes to those kinky clubs.” 

Jackie couldn’t help but glance at his hands before she nodded. Yes.

“You understand that this is between us.” 

“Yes, and I could ask the same of you.” 

Again, he nodded, but his legs stayed crossed.

“You understand that I won’t stop until I think you’ve had enough, unless you call out ‘Litton.’” 

She closed her eyes briefly before nodding, wondering how he knew about safe words. 

“Right.” He uncrossed his legs, making room for her to lie down. “Raise your skirt and get over my knees.” 

Jackie blushed at the thought of raising her skirt for a smacking, her mind screaming that she needed this while at the same time asking “Gene Hunt, for Christ’s sake?” 

And then before she could think of it much more, she’d lifted her skirt and placed herself across his lap. 

A heavy hand rested on her lower back. “You also understand that I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you’d intended for what happened to happen. I wouldn’t be able to look at you if I did.”

Jackie nodded slowly. She hadn’t thought it through earlier, but…. Gene would have been cold like the others in CID if he truly thought she’d deliberately sabotaged them. There would have been icy threats, not questions or teasing. He was letting her know they were already all right, or as all right as they got. Tired and emotionally wrung out as she was, that thought brought tears to her eyes even before the first smack.

Jackie was grateful Gene hadn’t asked her to count off the blows. She didn’t think she’d have been able to do more than moan after the first five. After ten, she was sure she’d have his handprints tattooed on her bum for good. After fifteen, she couldn’t really think at all. She just whimpered and begged and jolted forward with the force of his smacks, surrendering herself completely to the pain, unable to imagine a time when it wouldn’t hurt. 

Thoughts of the Reynolds sting and the newspaper were long gone. Her world was the strangely comforting warmth of the legs she was bent over and the large, strong hand steadily warming her backside to the point where her whole body felt overheated. 

She’d gone limp and surrendered herself to the experience to such a degree that it took her a long time to notice that Gene had stopped. She had no interest in getting up, as embarrassing a position as this was. Her eyes felt heavy and swollen and she’d just as soon keep them closed and go to sleep over Gene’s lap if he’d let her. Those circles he was rubbing on her back were calming her to the point where if he just kept on for another minute….

Unfortunately, Gene noticed that she’d come back to awareness. “Come on love, up you get,” he said, gruff yet gentle. 

Jackie buried her head in the sofa and mumbled something about sadism, only to be pulled up to sit on Gene’s lap. 

“OK?” he asked, searching her eyes intently. 

She had truly not expected him to be so…caring. Concerned. She’d expected to be shouted at and sent out to lick her wounds alone, not held on his lap. 

Jackie found that she wanted a different sort of physical response from him now. She turned and kissed him, gasping into his mouth when changing her position brought her sore bottom in contact with the rough material of his trousers. 

He kissed back gently, carefully, until she nipped his lower lip, her bottom's almost unbearable pain having died down enough to make her want to play. 

It was his turn to gasp. He looked into her eyes and grinned, running his fingernails over her sensitized arse, making her writhe and grind into him, her soaked knickers leaving a damp spot on his trousers. 

Gene lifted her and carried her over to the filing cabinet, her legs gripping tight around his waist while he got his cock out and pushed her knickers aside. 

As he thrust into her, shaking the cabinet, she grinned. “Now you have had a woman against the filing cabinet.”


End file.
